Welcome Home, Sarah
by DelilahBlueEyes
Summary: Jareth wakes from a dream of Sarah. The same depressing dream he has every night. And like every other night, he is alone... or is he?


His hand was at her waist as they spun around and around in a dance. It was warm and solid under his hand, fitting perfectly in his palm. Gone was the spun sugar gown of her crystal ballroom dream, replaced instead by a deep blue, curve-hugging gown. Standing as close as they were he caught a teasing peak of skin under the neckline of her dress when she leaned toward him. She noticed the direction of his gaze and he was thrilled to see her flash him a hint of a smirk to rival his most mischievous. That smile told him that she understood the game now, like she never would have before. Because the waist he held was the curve of a woman's body, not a girl's. She was taller now, he realized, though he could still tuck her head under his chin while standing. He wasn't sure of her exact age, but she was _older_, that much her body alone was telling him.

All of a sudden her smile faded, a melancholy mockery of what it had just been. He has just opened his mouth to ask her what the problem was when he heard it too. The silence. The music, just as it did every time, had played its final note and ceased, drawing some of the life out of the scene. Already her brilliant green eyes and the rich blue fabric of her dress in grey. As the silence grew they stopped spinning, but neither moved away. He was surprised to find her looking back at him with the same desperate intensity with which he was staring at her. And even as she began to shimmer slightly and he realized that he could see through her, her hands on his shoulder and in the one she was holding tightened slightly- as if she did not want this dream to end either. For that was what it was, a dream. One that he had had many times and it always ended the same way. His girl, smiling in such a way as to break his heart all over again would diminish in his sight until he was alone.

******

He woke up slowly, his subconscience cleaving recklessly to any hint of Sarah left from his dreaming. His hand still tingled with the ghost imprint of her and he sighed, flexing his fingers to rid himself of the sensation. And froze. Tensed his hand again. The warmth he felt through the blankets of his bed was no dream remnant, it was a very real, very solid body lying next to him.

Slowly and quietly he raised himself onto his elbow to see past the mass of dark hair on his pillow—His heart clenched. He had gone too far this time, pushed his mind over the edge pining for her and surely this dream would be the one that killed him.

"Sarah?" He mouthed the word, his throat too tightly constricted with fear to allow the word to make it through. He took a deep breath and tried again. _What's the worst she can do? _He thought dryly,_ leave you again?_

"Sarah?" His mind went suddenly blank as she groaned and rolled onto her back to look up at him with sleep heavy eyes.

"Shh! I'm trying to sleep." And with just those few words, the tight little ball of bitter anger that he'd carried all around since the first time she'd gone, it melted completely away. He forgave her without a second thought, even if this was just something he would wake up from in the morning and end up killing himself because of.

"Why? What are you doing here? How did you even _get_ here?" His eyes softened when she lifted her hand to cover a big yawn. When she moved it again it was to cover his where- he discovered with a shock- it rested at her hip.

"Look, it's a very long, very strange story. I'm completely exhausted, you have no idea what I went through to get here. Can I tell you in the morning?" She asked, eyes already sliding shut again. He was speechless or a good ten seconds before he responded, hastily pulling his hand away from where it rested.

"Fine…But would you like your own room? I could-."

"Shhh!"

"But I-."

"_SHHH!_"

He gave up, falling back on the pillows with a huff. It was silent for a few moments as he attempted to wrap his mind around the fact that this wonderful woman had managed to twist her way back into his world, his life and even his bed. Something brushed his hand and he jumped, forgetting that he was not alone. Sarah lifted his hand from where it lay behind her and wriggled backward, and suddenly her body was pressed against his, her back to his chest.

_Scratch that last,_ he thought as she pulled his arm around herself much as she would a blanket, _This stupendous, amazing, wonderful, _warm_, woman is back in my world, my life, my bed and even my arms._ Pulling her more securely against him, buried his entire face in her hair, breathing deeply.

"You're really here. I missed you," he said mildly, hoping she was too tired to go into exactly how much he'd missed her. Instead she twisted her fingers through his.

"I missed you, too. G'night, Jareth." Her voice was barely a sigh but he heard his name pass her lips and very nearly rolled over her to kiss her senseless. The only thing that stopped him was the repeated thought, _she's too tired. She's too tired. She's too tired. SHE'S TOO TIRED._ _Besides, there will be plenty of time for that kind of behavior tomorrow if I have anything to say about it._

And he did. He had a great deal to say on the matter, namely anything and everything to convince her to stay. This time he would do more than just bare his soul, he would make her bare hers and twist and morph himself until he fit with it. Initially he planned to stay up until the sun rose just to be sure she didn't melt away just like morning mist but having her here was like a balm to all the sleepless nights he'd suffered alone. He could only form a few more words before his own eyes shut.

"Welcome home, dear heart," he murmured, smiling faintly when she grunted in response. He settled himself against the pillows, beside his love and the Goblin King finally fell asleep.


End file.
